Once Upon a Destiny
by Walkin' In The Rain
Summary: Off hiatus soon. I have been feeling weird about having a story on the internet that is unfinished.
1. Prologue Part I

**Once Upon a Destiny**

_Life is a journey which may take many twists and turns, but the final destination is unavoidable._

**Prologue**

In the opinion of a certain commanding officer of his majesty's army, today was a beautiful day. The flowers were in full bloom, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and he could hear a pig squealing probably on its way to the slaughter house.

Now, the commanding officer wasn't a very bright man, as it turned out. For the sound he mistook for a squealing pig, was actually in fact one of the young princes being held in a headlock by his supposed loving older brother. However, the officer was soon brought back to reality when a handful of mud hit him square in the face, some of it getting in his mouth. And since mud isn't particularly tasty it is no wonder that said officer started to gag.

After he had tried his best to wipe the mud off his tongue, he surveyed the scene. The oldest of the princes was wrestling one of the twins, whom he could never tell apart. The angry prince seemed to be shouting at his brother and behind them the officer spotted the other twin who seemed to be looking at him in horror. He realised that the boy's right hand was covered in mud. So _he_ was the perpetrator.

The officer thought for a moment before deciding this was way out of his league. Sure, he could handle being on a battlefield surrounded by enemies. No problem. But angry young boys were another thing entirely. Especially when there was mud involved. The officer prided himself with appearance.

Coming to the conclusion that he should fetch someone else to break up the fight, he tried his best to wipe the mud off his face and retain some of his pride before fetching one of the servants.

_Today is not my day, _he thought glumly.

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

"APOLOGISE! You destroyed it on purpose, so apologise!" Christian screamed at Teddy, whom he held in a headlock.

They were in the courtyard and though there was a cheery rainbow in the sky from last night's rain, none of its cheer reached the struggling boys on the ground.

"Why should I? It was trash anyways, it's not like it would've worked!" Teddy managed to say while twisting away from Chris's grasp. He managed to get away only to be tackled to the ground.

Chris glared angrily down at Teddy before replying, "It was **not** trash. It was a work of genius, which you destroyed!"

"Stop it!" Harry pleaded from a safe distance. He wasn't brave enough to try to pry them apart. He valued his life. After a few moments in which neither of his brothers seemed to be listening to him, he picked up a handful of mud from the ground, a memento from the previous night's rain. Though it lacked the beauty of the rainbow, it had its uses. Harry threw the mud at Christian's back, or tried to at least. His aim was undoubtedly the worst in the kingdom and instead of hitting his brother, the mud hit home on a very important looking person's face. Horrified, Harry put his hands to his mouth, successfully getting mud all over his face.

"Not until he apologises!" Chris said with a gasp. Even though Teddy was the younger by a year, he had managed to get behind his brother's back and had twisted his arm behind him in a rather painful looking position.

Harry was getting nervous. The important looking person had left the courtyard with a determined look on his face. "Really, you two outta stop fighting!" He shouted as he saw the important looking person coming back with the history tutor, Miss Corbin.

"And what do we have here?" Miss Corbin spoke in a kind, but strict voice.

"Nothing, Miss," Christian and Teddy scrambled up from the ground and, with Harry, spoke in unison with wide eyes, trying to look as cute and innocent as possible.

Miss Corbin looked at them sternly obviously unaffected by their cute and innocent façade. "Who started this?"

"Chris did! He punched me in the gut for no reason! It really hurt, Miss!"

"It wasn't for no reason! You purposely destroyed my robotic flower planter!"

"A robotic flower planter? Would that be to help the gardeners?"

"Yes, Miss. They always work so hard so I thought I could make their job easier." Christian spoke attempting the cute and innocent façade again and apparently without effect.

"That's so sweet of you Chris. But that cute act won't get you anywhere. I still have to tell your parents."

"Please don't, Miss! It won't happen again! We promise!" Christian and Teddy chorused.

Miss Corbin thought for a moment. "Well, what if you told each other you were sorry and that you really love each other. Then maybe I'll forget this ever happened."

"EEW! But Teddy's my brother! I don't love him!"

"I meant love each other as brothers. There's more than one kind of love."

"Fine, I'm sorry for hitting you, Teddy."

"I'm sorry for breaking that piece of trash."

"HEY!"

Miss Corbin simply shook her head as the two brothers continued to fight again. Opting for a more direct approach, she grabbed both of their ears and pulled them to their feet before marching them out of the courtyard. As she was doing this, she finally got a good look at Harry.

"What happened to your face?"

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**


	2. Prologue Part II

**Prologue Part II**

Turn on tap. Watch water pour out. Turn off tap. Turn on tap. Watch water pour out. Turn off tap.

Prince Christian of some big chunk of land, the name of which he could not remember, did not want to wash his hands. He did not want to wash his hair. He did not want to get dressed in that stupid, itchy outfit for some big important social event full of a bunch of boring, old adults. But, alas, children never get their way, not even princes.

And so it was with a glum look that he turned on that wretched tap and stuck his hands in that clear water. It was with a look of despair that he turned to the outfit that had been picked out for him. And it was a look of utter horror after he had put on said outfit and looked at himself in the mirror.

He looked like a clown! One of those ugly, disgusting, smiling, horrifying things he saw at that thing with the people in that town.

"Oh! Christian, you look absolutely wonderful! That outfit makes you look so handsome!"

If that was the case, Christian never wanted to look handsome ever again.

"Miss Corbin, do I have to go to this thing? Looking like this?" Christian crinkled his nose.

"But Christian! You look wonderful!"

"You could tell Mother and Father I'm sick! Yeah! That'll work!"

"No little mister, not after I kept my mouth shut about you and Teddy's little brawl this mornin'."

Chris looked up into Miss Corbin's eyes. He made them go big, then shut them tight and opened them again. A single fat tear rolled down his little face and his lower lip trembled.

Miss Corbin looked down at the little boy in front of her and smiled. "You know, I hear little boys like lamb. There will be lots of lamb at the banquet!"

"I don't like lamb. I don't like fat people. At that banquet there'll be fat people eating lamb. I. Don't. Want. To. GO!" Christian screamed the last word and flung a foot out at Miss Corbin. She dodged it and grabbed his ear. She pulled him up, ignored his screams of protest and hurried him out the door.

Christian had failed. He had given in. How could he ever call himself a man? Well, most little boys can't call themselves men anyway, but still. The disgrace of being beaten by a woman still burned bright in Chris's heart as he was scurried to that terrible banquet hall.

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold~**

_Spoons are so very strange. _Thought Christian with a silver spoon in one hand. _One side reflects things normally, the other side reverses things. I wonder why that is? _Chris sighed. The world was full of wonders, yet he was stuck sitting at some stupid table in a stupid banquet hall surrounded by his stupid twin brothers. His mother liked Chris sitting in between them. Said it prevented Teddy and Harry from goofing off at inappropriate times.

They were still goofing off though. And Christian was in the middle of it. A grape hit his left cheek followed by a giggle. He was then shoved from his right side. More giggles followed, then silence. Chris appreciated the silence for a moment before realising that Teddy and Harry must be having one of their secret conversations. But he was too late. Both twins had leaned against him and were squishing him from both sides. More giggles. Another grape hit his face, this time from the right. Christian ignored it and continued to stare into his silver spoon which had not yet been used for eating purposes. He was not hungry. A piece of buttered bread hit his left cheek and slowly slid down leaving a gooey trail. Christian clenched his teeth. Across the table their mother looked at them with a warning look in her eyes. It said _behave or else_. She turned back to her lady friends and laughed at some unfunny joke they had said. Another grape hit his right cheek. Chris couldn't help himself. He burst.

"STOP IT TEDDY!"

"HELP! MOTHER HELP ME! CHRIS'S GONNA KILL ME!"

There was food everywhere. As Christian had tackled Teddy to the ground, Teddy had grabbed onto a piece of the tablecloth and it had come with them along with the plates, cutlery and food. Their mother was screaming at them to stop, but they didn't. Chris kicked angrily at Teddy's face, but missed. Teddy, being far better at hand eye coordination, didn't miss when he kicked Chris in the stomach. Growling, Christian took another swing at Teddy, but it never connected. Not because of his aim this time, but because their father, with his eyes full of fury, had grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet.

Teddy and Harry looked up at their father with fear in their eyes. It wasn't fear for themselves, their father never hit either of them, it was fear for their brother Christian whose arm was being held at a painful looking angle.

The whole banquet hall was silent. The guests looked at the mighty King Beaufort unsure of how to act. The king himself was silent looking down at his son. He then looked up at the gaping spectators and his loving wife. He made up his mind.

King Beaufort did not yell at Christian. He did not hit him. Instead he took the little boy by the hand and led him out of the banquet hall. They walked slowly down the hall, hand in hand. Passing servants looked at them quizzically, but didn't question the king as to what he was doing.

Christian was scared. His father was never this calm. It must be this so called _calm before the storm_. Oh, how right he was.

They kept on walking at an even pace down the long halls. They went down a hall Christian had never seen before and then up a set of solemn looking stairs. He hadn't known there were stairs here. Or that here existed. That made him scared. Was his father taking him to the dungeons? Panic filled the little six year old as his imagination went loose. That couldn't be it though! Relief washed over him. The dungeons were _down_! They were going _up_! But where was _up_?

Chris soon found out. _Up _was in a tower. _Up _was a small, cramped circular room. _Up _was cold. _Up _looked uncomfortable. _Up _smelled.

King Beaufort led his son to the lone piece of furniture in the room, a small bed. Christian sat down on it. It creaked. He looked up at his father expectantly. There was silence. Then the storm hit.

"What the hell were you doing?"

"Teddy wa-"

"You made me look like a fool! Having to break up a fight! Do you realise who the people there were? No, you don't because you are just a Stupid. Little. Brat." King Beaufort spat out the last words.

Christian looked up with tears in his eyes. He didn't speak. He knew what was coming next.

"And to think, this kingdom will someday rest on the shoulders of an idiot," Beaufort laughed, "I should think all the people will rebel and have your head chopped off because they don't want a ruler with less brains than a fly!"

Christian was silent still, but he tensed up. He could almost hear it coming in his father's words.

King Beaufort looked at his son and smiled. "That's why I must teach you not to be an idiot. I have to make you strong. Why you are trembling right now!" The king's hand shot out then and hit Christian's cheek. The young boys head flew to the side. His cheek was smarting. "Your fairy birth-gift was good luck. You can't rule a kingdom on good luck, Christian. You have to be strong. You can't break and start fights for pointless reasons. That is why you shall stay up here, in this small, depressing room until you learn that valuable lesson."

Christian held back his tears. His cheek hurt, but he could not let his father know that.

King Beaufort smiled one last time and turned to the door. He locked it behind him. Christian leaned back on the bed and let out the tears he'd been holding in.

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

Night came and went. His father did not come. His mother did not come. Nobody came. There was only Christian. He was the only one in the entire universe. There was just him, his thoughts, an old bed and a small room in a tower at the end of the world. He could hear nothing except his own quite breathing. For all he knew, the world could have ended during that long night. All the people he knew were dead. He could hear nothing, so maybe there was nothing to hear. Did that thought sadden him? He didn't know. All he knew was that he was sitting on an old bed, resting on old wooden floorboards of a room in a tower at the end of the world.

He closed his eyes. He thought of grass. He thought of trees. He thought of the beautiful orange marigolds on that field. He always went to that field to think. He still could go there to think. He was there, in the field of marigolds. Someone was singing, quiet and beautiful. The wind blew gently, caressing his face. Someone whispered his name. _Christian._ The voice was far away. It wouldn't come closer. Was it afraid of him? It sounded so beautiful. He opened his eyes. Maybe he should go after that beautiful voice. But he couldn't turn his head. He couldn't get up and walk towards the owner of that beautiful voice. He couldn't go near them. They didn`t want to be close to him. That thought saddened him. He cried out and tried to get to his feet. He couldn`t, someone was holding him down. _Christian! _That was the right word, but the wrong voice. Something had happened to the owner of that voice! He needed to help them! He cried out more and struggled with all his strength to break free off that invisible force holding him down.

"Christian! Are you okay?"

Miss Corbin. It was her. He wasn`t in the field of marigolds anymore, he was on that bed in that room in that tower. It had all been a dream. Of all the thoughts that had gone through his head that night, it was that one that saddened him the most.

"You're allowed to go now Christian. Isn't that wonderful?"

Christian nodded, but he felt numb.

"You really shouldn't have fought with Teddy again. You knew this was going to happen. Christian, are you all right?" Miss Corbin looked at him worried.

"I'm fine. Just a bit drowsy is all."

Miss Corbin took him by the hand and led him out of the tower and down the stairs. The dream was still fresh in his mind, but slowly it began to fade as all dreams do. Soon he could remember nothing of it, but the feeling of happiness that had washed over him when he'd heard that beautiful voice. Soon not even that he could remember.

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

Christian was restless. He was irritated. He wanted to go somewhere. Not sit here all day at a stupid PICK-NICK, whatever that was. Christian didn't know anybody called Nick and if he did he wouldn't know what it meant to pick him.

Was this just some extended punishment for getting into a fight with Teddy? That happened two days ago. As far as Chris was concerned, two days was too long to hold punishment for. He still hated Teddy though. He'd have to scour the gardens and retrieve the robotic flower planter pieces. Would he be able to put it back together though? Teddy broke it pretty badly. That thought sent a wave of rage through Christian. He glanced at Teddy and glared venomously. Teddy tried to look innocent.

A growl escaped Christian's lips. What was the point of this PICK-NICK thing anyway? They go into the forest and eat food. Couldn't they do that back at the castle? Was this that "family-bonding-thing" Mother kept speaking of? If so, why were there all the guards? They weren't family as far as Christian knew.

Out of the corner of his eye, Christian saw his twin brothers nudging each other and looking at him. They smiled. Christian frowned. He got up slowly as to not draw attention and walked out into the trees. Mother didn't notice, she was busy talking to her lady friends. Chris kept walking between the trees. Whatever Teddy and Harry were planning he didn't want to be part of it.

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

It was a lovely day. The birds were singing and the sun was shining. It was so beautiful and so peaceful that Christian got lost as he was walking aimlessly, looking at the sky and not his feet. He wasn't panicked though. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more thrilled he became.

Lost! He was lost! That meant he could go anywhere he pleased and not have to go home! After all he didn't know where home was! Christian laughed cheerfully, threw up his arms and spun around in circles until he was dizzy. He skipped through the trees and tried to catch a passing squirrel.

This was wonderful! He could live here in the forest all by himself with no annoying brothers and no pestering parents! It was simply wonderful! He could invent things all he wanted and no one would tell him otherwise!

_Uh-oh, dogs. _Christian could hear them barking somewhere behind him. So his parents had noticed his absence and sent a hunting party. How lovely. He turned in the opposite direction of the barking and started to run. He ran as hard as he could, trying his best to dodge the tree roots jutting out of the ground. He wasn't entirely successful, but he kept going.

After a time the barking was so far away, Christian could hardly hear it. He slowed down and gasped for breath. He'd lost them! At least for the time being.

Christian stopped dead in his tracks. He could hear barking. It was up ahead. Had he somehow turned around? Were they circling him? He looked around panicked and jumped behind a bush. It was pokey and uncomfortable, but he forced himself to keep still.

"Hey, you guys! Cut that out!" Christian didn't recognise the voice, but then again his parents had many soldiers. "Hey! Stop that!" The dogs were very close now. Christian could've reached out and touched him. For a moment he was tempted to do such. The soldier, oddly enough, didn't look behind the bush. Instead he dug something out and offered it to the dogs. They forgot about him and followed the odd soldier away his hiding place.

Christian sighed with relief and slowly picked himself out of the pokey branches. His clothes were torn, but he didn't care. He was still free. He walked slowly through the forest, but his steps were laced with fatigue. He began to slow down even more until he fell to the ground. He didn't feel the impact, just the grateful calmness of sleep descending.

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

Oh, how stupid he'd been to fall asleep! The hunting party had hunted him quite well. They'd found him asleep on the forest ground and had taken him back to the castle. He'd woken on the way and had tried desperately to escape from the soldiers, but they were far larger. He was forced except his fate. He didn't have to except it cheerfully though.

When they got back to the castle night had already fallen. His mother had come out and to his surprise hugged him. She gushed about how she thought he'd been eaten by wild animals or something. It was very strange of her to act like this, but after thinking hard Christian came to the conclusion that this must be the so called "motherly-instinct" he'd heard of. He was quite disappointed when he found out his father did not have this "motherly-instinct".

Instead the great King Beaufort had had his son punished yet again with the same excuse that it would make Christian stronger and prepare him for the tough life of king.

And so Christian's life unfolded, locked away in a castle, learning how to be king. He had to go to stupid banquets and he was forced to behave civilly with his younger twin brothers. He took lessons in etiquette and sword play. The years slowly passed and Chris grew older until one night he had a dream.

The dream had a field of marigolds and a soft, sweet voice calling his name.

**I apologise for the long wait. Life has an uncanny talent of getting in the way of things. If any of you have stuck around to read this I thank you! This chapter and the previous were meant to be one, but they ended up getting uploaded separately due to troubles with my Microsoft Word. I'll try to update from now on once every two or so weeks from now on, but I have no promises as I have a whole French course to complete in under two months. Less if I wish to travel this summer. **

**Please review though. You don't have to say it's wonderful or anything, but in order to continue I MUST know the details of the book! It's been over a year and a half since I read it and I can't remember much. D= Any and all details will be greatly appreciated! Thank you!**

**P.S. It's Destiny will likely be deleted as I will not continue it, this being the rewritten version. **


	3. Marigolds

**Marigolds**

_Christian. _

**Who are you? **

_Christian._

**Where are you? **

Silence. Christian sighed. The breath escaped and twisted itself into an image of a marigold. It hovered there a moment and then the air faded into its surroundings. It was cold, but Christian didn't feel cold. He couldn't feel anything in this strange field. It was beautiful, ageless. Snow lay on orange marigolds, frost licked their petals. It was almost as if its beauty had been frozen and allowed to stay perfect forever, unmarred and unchanged by time.

_Christian._

He laughed. Was that all the voice could say? If so, he didn't mind. It was such a beautiful voice. It sounded like silver bells, tolling through his ears. The voice gave him comfort. As it whispered his name he didn't feel alone. He was always alone. He was always locked away, all alone, looking for someone to call out to him. He wanted someone to call out to him and be there, to need him.

_Christian._

**What's your name?**

_Christian._

**That's my name.**

_Christian._

Chris smiled. Perhaps he'd just go take a look at whom that voice belonged to, if they refused to tell him. He sat up. Or at least he tried to. He felt like he was moving through molasses. It was thick and he couldn't move his feet more than half an inch. Even that was a great feat only accomplished after much struggles. In the end he laughed and gave up. So what if the voice didn't want to be seen? He was content to just listen. That was until he heard the voice's next words.

_Christian, help me._

**~*Marigold*~~Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

They found Christian cross-legged in the corner of his room. He was fingering his pendant looking thoughtful. But the twins didn't care what their brother was thinking about. Their father had sent them to get Christian. Their father had looked angry. The twins didn't like that look.

Marriage. It had seemed like such an odd concept when they were children, but now they were grown up. Teddy and Harry were married. Their older brother, heir to the throne, was not. To their father, that was unacceptable.

Christian didn't care though. Anyone could see that about him. Sure, he acted charming and polite to the ladies who came to the court hoping for his hand in marriage, but there was no spark in his eyes. To him they were simply one to talk to. None had ever made his heart soar.

"You know brother-"

"-we've been thinking."

"Are you into men?" Teddy and Harry chorused. It was the only logical conclusion their combined twin brains could come up with.

Christian glared venomously at both of them before looking back down at his pendant. A lack of acknowledgment appeared to be his best defence right now.

"Well in that case-"

"-you should pick a-"

"-lady's woman," Again they chorused the last piece of their sentence. They were both completing sentences together. They knew Christian hated when they did that.

"That way you could have your man-"

"-she her woman-"

"-and neither of you could get angry and murder each other for cheating since you wouldn't be into each other!"

"Of course you could always get-"

"-a man that likes both men and women and have a threesome-"

"-but that would be unholy!" They cackled in unison and sat down, one on each side of Christian. They scooted in closer to him and crushed him between their shoulders. "Unholy! Unholy!" They cackled and tickled his neck and pulled his ears.

Chris was truly a creature of great talent. It'd been about two minutes since the twins had entered his room and for the most part he'd been able to ignore them. Of course, this infuriated them. They resorted to the dog pile.

"Ugh!" Christian huffed as the twins tried to crush him with their combined weight. He struggled to free himself, but Teddy managed to get him into an arm lock.

"Surrender man's man!"

"GET OFF!"

"You heard him, Teddy! Christian is very-"

"-DELICATE!" More cackling followed. Christian thought they sounded like two

witches who got turned into frogs, turned back into witches and still retained a distinct croak in their voices. Perhaps it was just late puberty?

"I'm not in the mood," Christian said bluntly. Teddy and Harry looked at each other and to Chris's surprise they stopped their taunting and sat silently. It was unheard of for the twins to be quiet! Was this perhaps a trap? If it was, he didn't care. He had something else on his mind.

Teddy then spoke up, "Pray tell dear brother, is something perhaps on your mind? Did you foresee in your dreams the apocalypse or the he-maiden of your dreams?"

There was no cackling this time and it took a moment for Christian to realise that Teddy was being caring in his own messed up way. He could feel Harry's gaze on his back. Christian was suddenly reminded of mother bears looking after their young. It was a very odd image, but one he could not get out of his mind.

"Actually, there is something on my mind, many things actually, but there is one that shouts out at me. It's forcing me to scrutinize it, to look for an answer to a question that I haven't any idea the nature of."

"Well, that seems a problem."

"Is there anything we could do to help?" Christian looked to Harry who he often thought to be the more caring twin. Their eyes met, but nothing passed between them. The twins knew each other inside and out, but neither they nor Christian could breach that wall of difference that separated Chris from his brothers.

"Perhaps there is. I don't know. Father sent you for me, didn't he? Another lady come to speak sweet words to me?" Christian rose to his feet and began heading towards the wooden double doors.

"Well if you must know-"

"-she is a beautiful lady come from the North."

"She loves flowers!" Both had returned to their previous attitudes.

"It's rather creepy. Is it not, Harry?"

"T'is indeed, Teddy! Why, she could go on for days about the different sub species of a rose!"

"She could tell you why they smell as they do!"

"She could explain the cross-breeding of two species of flowers!"

"But she could also-"

"Bore you into crying a river!" They cackled in unison.

"But you must admit that her telling of plant sex is quite intriguing. Why, with the help of the bees it's like the flower is having a threesome with the bee, itself and itself!"

"That's lovely, Teddy."

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

Teddy and Harry had been right. The lady was beautiful and she was obsessed with flowers. Christian didn't mind though. He hated having to start conversations with people that he had nothing in common with. At least with Amarantha, that was the lady's name, he hardly had to volunteer a word. She would go on talking about flowers happily with him nodding his head or smiling every once in a while. That gave him time to think about the dream he had had.

Someone somewhere needed his help. They _needed _him. That thought left him light headed and somewhat pleased. He then felt bad. Why should he feel good about someone's distress? Maybe it was just that it made him feel like he belonged. That he had a reason to exist. It was a wonderful feeling, to know one existed for a purpose.

But what was of those marigolds? They'd been everywhere in his dream, his breath, the field itself. If he wanted to help this person he should know what the marigolds symbolised. He thought hard about it, but came up with a blank. Weren't different flowers meant to symbolise different things?

"Oh! Morning glories! Don't you just love morning glories? They symbolise affection you know!"

Christian felt stupid, but he let the feeling pass as quick as it had come and pounced on Amarantha's knowledge of flowers. "I love morning glories! But I'm afraid I love marigolds more. Their colour is so rich!" Christian stopped walking and so did Amarantha. She looked delighted by his sudden outburst of conversation.

"Oh! I just adore marigolds! You know how they came to be named? Mary's gold because the poor offered them to the Virgin Mary since they could not afford actual gold. Such an interesting history is it not? Marigolds also symbolise passion and creativity!" Amarantha paused to push some golden hair out of her face, "They are also known as the "Herb of the Sun" and have been used as love charms! Used in wedding garlands and such. Oh, I almost forgot! In some cultures marigolds are added to pillows to encourage prophetic or psychic dreams! Intriguing is it not?"

"Quite so, Lady Amarantha," Christian digested this new information. Perhaps the marigolds represented more than he thought about the person who required help. The poor gave them as gifts. Could the one needing his help be a peasant? The prophetic or psychic dreams part seemed to hint that his dream might just be more than a dream, but he'd already had a feeling about that part. Besides, Miss Corbin, before she'd been wed and moved to a far off village, had always told him dreams revealed much about oneself and shouldn't be taken with a light heart.

The wind blew softly through the garden Amarantha and he strolled through and blew the cherry blossoms from their branches. They swirled and danced like pink snowflakes and by the time they'd fallen Christian had made up his mind. That evening he would ride out to the nearest village and no one would be able to change his mind about the matter.

**~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~**

"Come on Phil. You like carrots don't you?"

This was not going how Christian had planned. The stables where being carefully guarded for some unfathomable reason and the only horse he could get near was an old and dappled grey named Phil. Phil had a great hatred of Chris and rolled his hairy lips back over his teeth and neighed his quiet disapproval.

Christian cursed. Why did the world have to be cruel to him right _now_? He had a place to go, a person to meet and here was the most uncooperative horse well, not cooperating. Phil neighed again and nipped Chris's shoulder. He jumped back and cursed again before waving the carrot in front of Phil's eyes.

"Here horsey, horsey. I'm your friend. See?"

Phil glanced at the swinging carrot, Christian, the swinging carrot. He made up his mind and reached out to chomp at the orange delight. He didn't buck Chris off when he climbed up his stirrups. At least for the moment they had a faint friendship.

And so they went galloping down the old cobblestone road to the village. Christian didn't want them to be seen, so he took the less used path. It twisted and turned through the forest and branches tore at his clothing. He didn't mind. He'd begged some commoner cloths from one of the servants and a few rips wouldn't hurt. He'd also begged some food which he'd put in a burlap sack along with a few copper pennies to pay for a room in an inn for the night. He couldn't stay down in the village too long. A few trusted servants had been told of his departure and they'd been instructed to tell whosoever questioned that the prince was locked away in his study working on his latest invention. That excuse would stop most people, but not his father.

The shadows lengthened, a sign of the approaching night, and by the time Christian reached the village the sun was just beginning to set. He sat on Phil in awe for several moments at the edge of the dwellings. Gold, orange and pink streaked the sky and cast a soft glow on the land beneath. It was a marvellous sight.

But one cannot appreciate a marvellous sight for ever. Christian pulled at his horse's reigns and they trotted at a leisurely place to the village inn. A stable boy helped him tuck Phil into a little slot at the far end of the stables. Phil protested the whole while. Chris slipped the stable boy a copper penny before making his way into the inn itself.

He hated the place immediately, simply for the foreignness of it all. The people were loud and rowdy, drinking mugs of ale after they long should have had their last and hairy men trying to take a peek under the wenches' skirts. Christian crinkled his nose, but quietly made his way to the bar where the innkeeper stood polishing bottles of wine.

"I'd like a hot meal and a please to stay, good sir."

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow, "Awrfully smart speakin' ain't ch'you boy? Ah hog's breath, I's ain't gonna question ya. Be three copper."

Christian handed over the coins and took one of the seats along the bar. The innkeeper handed him an old brass key.

"Se'ond floor, door numbe' three. Gots that boy?"

"Yes, thank you," Christian dropped the sir. The innkeeper didn't raise an eyebrow this time, but Chris could see it was a hard feat.

The time slowly trickled by for Christian as he waited for his meal. He took the time to observe the behaviour of the common folk. So far he'd determined that they had their own special way of saying certain words and stringing sentences together. He doubted he'd be able to properly use their form of speaking so he vowed to say as little as possible. Eventually his meal, steaming stew and bread, arrived.

Christian ate it slowly. It didn't taste all that bad. It lacked the variety of flavours he was used to and the meat was rather lacking, but the stew satisfied him. The bread was a bit tough though. After he finished eating he took some more time to do some quiet observation. He soon realised near everyone was drinking a mug of ale. He was not. He ordered one and paid the half-penny. Sipping the drink slowly, he'd heard of the men who drank too much and lost their tongues, he continued his watching of the common folk.

Sometime after he had begun his watching, he noticed a dark haired wench across the room. She was very beautiful, he decided. He kept most of his focus on her for the next several minutes and was shocked when a hairy, drunken man grabbed her arm and tried to kiss her. She squealed and tried to push him away from her. He and his companions laughed and continued to taunt her. Christian could feel the pressure in his veins increase and he clenched his fist. He hadn't yet thought a second by the time he'd crossed the room and grabbed at the drunken man's arm.

"Whaddaya think you doin', boy?" The drunken man yelled at him swinging his arm toward Chris's face. It connected with Christian's jaw and his head swung around. He could taste blood. Hands squeeze around his neck and he was lifted about an inch off the ground. Chris dangled there a moment before swinging his foot into the man's weak place. It was an underhanded move, but Chris doubted the common folk cared about that sort of thing. The man let go of his grip around Christian's neck and doubled over. Making good use of the following confusion, Christian grabbed the dark haired wench's arm and dragged her to safety. He didn't expect what happened next.

"Let go of me!" An elbow connected hard with his stomach and pain erupted from the blow. Shocked and in pain, all Christian could do was watch the beautiful dark haired wench flee from him and up the stairs on the far side of the room. Something deep inside him felt heavy. Was it his heart? He didn't know, so he walked back to his seat with lead feet.

As Christian lowered himself onto his chair, the innkeeper spoke up, "She don' like people touchin' her ya'see? She odd likes that. Pro'lly gonna have to let her go if she keeps actin' up likes that."

"What's her name?" Christian couldn't keep his gaze from the stairs she'd only moments before fled up.

"Marigold. Why ya wanna know?"

****Please, no one take offense at Teddy's and Harry's comments on gayness. I have nothing against gay people.****

**I cannot apologise enough for my lack of updates so I have updated within the two weeks promised! YAY! Anyway, I was in a good mood from massive book shopping yesterday and finished this chapter. The fact that final exams are over with might've helped too. =D **

**I would still appreciate facts from the book.** **Thanks to ****CrazyDyslexicNerd ****I've been able to recall the basic story idea, but there are some small facts I'd like clarified such as the triplet's names and Marigold's parents' names.**

**Sorry, this chapter is a bit shorter than I originally meant for it to be. .  
**

**Thank you if you took the time to read this chapter! ^.^  
**


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